


Boons and Backlash

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [25]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 22:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Big, FAT, HEAVY spoilers for 9x11.Something about their encounter in the inn room rubs Molly up the wrong way.





	Boons and Backlash

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote like 80% of this during the stream at like... 4am? 5am? sorry

Molly’s heart jumps in his chest at the excitement of being pulled into an inn room by a handsome half-orc. Granted, it’s a room that he  _ shares _ with aforementioned half-orc, but being physically tugged into anywhere by anyone handsome is an exciting experience for Mollymauk.   
Fjord is so worried about his belongings, as any of them would be, the Gods only know that Molly trusts approximately fuck all about any of these people, but Fjord… takes it hard from hand.   
Molly’s into it.   
Fjord disappears into the shadows almost naturally, it appears almost as though he turns to smoke. Molly crouches by the bed, flattens his back to the wall and hopes the pillows hide his horns.   
  
He feels, later, that in hurting his trust from Nott, he hurts his chance at trust from Caleb. He doesn’t blame him in the slightest, no trace of bitterness, he doesn’t trust Caleb either. His devil’s tongue comes in helpful when wringing for information, the after-effects are not always favourable, he feels he will never get the vision of Nott’s betrayed face out of his mind, the glint of her crossbow when the spell ended and she whips it up.   
Fjord pats his shoulder heavily, they sit on the floor facing one another to pray over the scimitars.   
Molly cracks an eye partway through his strange, formal tongue, to see Fjord. His eyes are closed, concentration wrought on his face. He smiles, a little, the shape changing the inflection of his words, Fjord twitches with the change but says nothing.   
He finishes up and waits a few seconds to tell Fjord he can move, he takes those seconds to open his own eyes and study him, because it’s rare that Fjord stays still enough for Molly to watch him without the feeling of eyes on his own skull.   
“There we go.” His tone changes from the long, low of formal speech to the sharp, jovial of everyday, “That was nice.”   
Fjord’s eyes flicker open, Molly watches as he stretches a little a time, fingers to hands to arms to twisting and stretching his back ‘til it clicks.   
“Thanks for tha’, Molly.” Fjord tells him genuinely, smiling just a little, he stands up and Molly packs away his scimitars and coat.   
Silence fills the room. It’s uncomfortable, a little, and the drop of Nott’s story still weighs on them both. It takes a few minutes for Fjord to break it,   
“So, Nott, huh?”   
“It was… not what I expected.” Molly admits as he turns, catches Fjord pulling his armor off, and turns away before he can fixate on the flashes of skin as his shirt is pulled with it.   
“D’you think…” Fjord trails off, like the words he was going to say hurt him, scalding, he swallows and continues because he’s spat up worse, “D’you think she cares about Caleb? Or is it just self-gain?”   
Molly does turn at that. Fjord is looking at him, and he crosses his arms as he levels his gaze, shaking his head a little,   
“You don’t really believe the answer to that question is  _ no _ , do you?” Fjord’s face pulls, a little guilt, a little wince, there’s a moment of quiet,   
“No, no, I don’t.” He says, sighs, sets his armor down, “I remember her flinging herself over him when he went down against Kylre.” He stands straight again, “An’ the way she panicked when Pumat Sol cleaned him. There’s a lot.”   
“She wants something from him, sure. Even if they struck out for selfish gain, there’s no doubt in my mind that she cares for him now.”   
Fjord is quiet as he lifts the blankets of the bed and climbs in, he looks to Molly, still standing with crossed arms, a little defensive, haloed by the light of the street coming in from the window.   
“Come t’ bed, Molly.”   
He doesn’t move.   
Fjord peels back Molly’s side of the blankets with one hand, extends the other,   
“Last thing we need righ’ now is t’ be arguin’ between ourselves, please, c’mon.”   
Molly’s arms drop, so does his face, he hurts now.   
“I wish Yasha was here.” He says, and it’s so achingly sad that Fjord leans over and catches his arm, pulls until Molly climbs into bed too.   
The tiefling curls up, fetal position, his back to Fjord. He doesn’t even pull the blankets up.   
Fjord does it for him and shuffles, sideways, until he can set a hand very gently on Molly’s hip. Warmth and contact, but Molly doesn’t move.   
Fjord sighs as he pulls, slides Molly just a little further down the bed, just a little closer to him,    
“Molly, if somethin’ else is botherin’ y’, y’know y’ can talk to me about it, righ’?”   
Molly finally unwinds and turns, Fjord’s hand slides across his back when he does, settles on his opposite hip as he faces him.   
“I travelled with the carnival for two years.” Molly explains, low, tired, sad, “Our lives were never threatened as much or as hard as this party’s have been in the past three days alone. I never saw my family fall unconscious. I  _ trusted _ them, with my life, with my heart, with everything.”   
“You trust us with your life.” Fjord points out.   
“I do.” Molly agrees, “Mostly because I have no other choice.”   
Fjord falls silent. It’s almost a minute before he speaks,   
“You trust me?” he ventures, cautious. He sees Molly smile, his heart jumps in his throat.   
“More than the others, at least.” and he presses a hand to Fjord’s arm. They take a few seconds to drink the warmth of the moment in.   
“I understand not bein’ able to trust. I have, I have secrets, things I ain’t tellin’ y’, things I can’t tell y’, things I won’t.”   
“Oh, we all have secrets.” Molly says breezily, there’s a heaviness behind the words, though, like the scent of approaching rain on a summer wind. “I have goals, ideals, things that I won’t tell you, either. Maybe I will, one day, given enough booze, plied with enough of this-” he pats Fjord’s arm, “from handsome men.”   
Fjord muffles a snort of laughter.   
“A’right, this is better than it was, let’s not push it too far.”    
“I could push further, in the best direction.” Fjord sees Molly’s eyebrows lift, suggestive, and he smiles, shakes his head, presses his thumb gently into the soft hollow of Molly’s hip.   
Molly falls silent for a while. Fjord watches his smile fade again, his brow knits, he stares at Fjord but doesn’t see him despite his darkvision. He’s looking through him.   
“Something about Nott’s voice, and her tone, it bothered me a little. It’s very hard to lie when charmed, you know? She may not have consciously registered it, but subconsciously, I think she was trying very, very hard to hide.”   
Fjord nods.   
“I know, it’s only been a, a couple o’ weeks, but I do care abou’ Nott, an’ abou’ Caleb.”   
Molly’s tail twitches, swishes a little over the side of the bed,   
“I care for Caleb too.” He says, quietly, “A lot. He’s something special, Fjord, both as, as Nott says, and…” he trails off, but catches Fjord nodding. An exhale, halfway between a laugh and relief,   
“You don’t have t’ say it, I understand, I’m much the same.”   
“And me?” Molly’s eyes change, almost pleading, Fjord smiles,   
“Yeah, an’ you. Are all tiefling’s like puppies? You an’ Jester both wag your tails when y’ gettin’ attention.”   
“A little racist, don’t you think?” Molly teases, but his smile lets Fjord know it’s not serious, and he chuckles as he pulls Molly closer, lets the tiefling sigh and snuggle himself against his chest.   
“Maybe we should talk to Caleb in the mornin’.” Fjord suggests, Molly’s tail slips in to tangle around Fjord’s leg,   
“Nott will have undoubtedly told him something about tonight. We’ll have to watch out for it, he may trust us less than before.”   
“Aw, an’ I was doin’ so well.” Fjord says, sadly, Molly tilts his head up to meet his eyes.   
“I was  _ not _ .” he says, smirking a little, and studies Fjord.   
“If y’ gonna kiss me, Molly, just fuckin’ do it, I-”   
He’s cut off, Molly needs no more prompting, he has to stretch to reach but considers the sudden shooting pain of pulled muscle in his shoulder worth it. He feels Fjord’s hand tighten a little on his hip, slip a little higher to his waist.   
And he withdraws from the kiss and settles his head back under Fjord’s chin.   
“Just clarification,” he says, his voice muffled a little by Fjord’s shoulder, “Earlier, about Caleb, you were talking about  _ feelings  _ for Caleb. Romantically speaking?”   
“I, I was, yeah, were you?”   
“Good, yes, I was. Good.”   
Silence.   
“That’s a problem for later.” Molly says, Fjord chuckles gently, it reverberates through his chest and into Molly’s whole body.   
“Yeah, it is. G’night, Molly.” He squeezes.   
“Night.” Molly squeezes back.

**Author's Note:**

> Also mollyfjord??? in this widomauk household??? surprise ive been into the triad all along  
> not reallt a surprise i have two fics for widofjordmauk but whatcha gonna do. despite being poly myself, i cant write poly ships??? what's with that
> 
> Feel free to hmu for conversation on my tumblr (mollymockerytealeaf) or twitter (alpha_geminorum) because genuinely??? please... be friends with me... i have one whole friend who likes CR and he's responsible so he sleeps at 4am, and i can't emotion at him all that much.


End file.
